


The Time to Rise

by ikkiM



Series: Battles [3]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-04
Updated: 2017-10-04
Packaged: 2019-01-09 00:56:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12265635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ikkiM/pseuds/ikkiM
Summary: Set in theA Battle WonUniverse, a few months afterAn Important Matter to Discuss.





	The Time to Rise

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Aerest](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aerest/gifts), [december13](https://archiveofourown.org/users/december13/gifts), [Jades](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jades/gifts), [Lena_G](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lena_G/gifts), [ellethom](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellethom/gifts), [GumTree](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GumTree/gifts), [WeirdDaydreamingFangirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WeirdDaydreamingFangirl/gifts).



> For more of my LOVELIES in this fandom.

Jaime reached out as he drifted into awareness, his stump landing on his wife’s thick waist. He slowly opened his eyes to see her face on the pillow next to his, her eyes closed and mouth slack. The sunlight streamed through the window, making her pale hair glow as a golden halo around her head. She scrunched up her nose and emitted a loud and distinctly unladylike snore.

His Brienne, his Lady of Casterly Rock, his wife. The corners of his mouth curled into a smile. He rolled onto his side to better look at her. He scooted as close as he could, curving himself around her ungainly  body. He kissed her forehead. In her sleep, she swatted at him before twining her fingers in his hair, her forearm over his face. With a wiggle, he freed his head and her hand drift down to his bare chest. She shifted her large body into a more comfortable position, slinging one long leg over his.

Sleeping with Brienne was an experience. She always managed to twist the covers around herself, often leaving him cold. She snored. She kicked. She clutched at him. Occasionally, she talked or hummed. It amazed him that she had once been a soldier.

And what a soldier she was. The horrors of the War for the Dawn were long behind them, the memories of those days softened with time. His eyes were drawn to the scar on her freckled shoulder. He thought he’d lost her then, the White Walker’s sword swung in a high arc, intent on removing her head from her body. Jaime’d shoved her out of the way, fast enough to save her, but not fast enough to completely spare her. The Walker had shattered when Jaime had thrust Widow’s Wail in his gut, thousands of wights falling with him. He remembered the blood running down her arm. _So much blood_.

He pushed those memories away. They had come through, not just surviving but winning that war. The Others had been defeated, hopefully, this time for good. The realm was at peace, or at least most of it. He knew his brother would make that peace last as long as possible. He smiled at that thought, _King Tyrion Lannister_ , _First of His Name._

Brienne shifted again in discomfort, the movement revealing even more of her scars. He traced his finger along the old ones from the bear. She’d been such a stubbon woman, unwilling to realize he loved her, even after he’d jumped into a bear pit, unarmed, to save her. He supposed he could not blame her. He had been a fool, such a fool, to let her go so many times. It was only when he would have been forced to betray his Brienne that he found the strength to break away.

Following her had been his best decision, although she’d led him into battle. It had been a battle worth fighting, the battle for humanity, and for Jaime, the battle for love. Once he reached her, he’d refused to leave her side. When it was over, he’d refused to say goodbye to her.

Jaime had brought her home to the Rock to heal, with no intent ever to let her leave. She hadn’t, but once. They’d gone to Tarth together. He’d held her while she’d sobbed, faced with the devastation of her home. Her father had led the Tarth fleet to White Harbor, facing the Others there. They’d called that battle a victory, but to Brienne, there was only loss. The forces from Essos had used her island as a sporting ground, like a horde of locusts, leaving it barren. What had remained didn’t survive Winter. It would be at least two generations before the once thriving island became habitable again.

 _Generations_ , he thought, as her leg pressed into his.

Jaime had brought her back to Casterly Rock to make it her home. Worn down by his arguments, she’d agree to take him as husband as well. He thought he’d never feel such joy the day he placed his cloak around her shoulders and had taken hers around his.

Jaime had been wrong though. His happiness had only increased. She wasn’t a pliant or biddable wife. She was stubborn and honorable and oftentimes interfering. There were times he wanted simply to dismiss his bannermen, send them out to resolve their squabbles alone. In fact, there were times he had walked out on them. His body stirred at the memory. It was Brienne who would remind him of his duty. They called him Goldenhand the Just. If only they knew that justice in the Westerlands came from their lady, not from their lord.

Brienne’s brow creased again. He placed his lips on her cheek, trying to give her comfort from whatever dream disturbed her. She reached out for him, pulling him close. Again her face tightened and she emitted a small groan of pain.

“Brienne,” he whispered her name to wake her.

Her eyes fluttered open slowly, first cloudy and then focusing on him like gleaming sapphires. She smiled and whispered his name.

Then she gasped, her body tightening, pulling in on itself. He drew up beside her, holding her close. She relaxed and looked up at him, panting slightly.

“Jaime,” she said, “I think the babe is coming.”

  
  



End file.
